Orangemen have no future because they live in the past
With reports of membership numbers plummeting, its sworn enemies in government and with more chance of walking on the moon than on the Garvaghy Road, the Orange Order approaches the Twelfth with some trepidation.
That unease and uncertainty among the brethren is reflected in two different types of behaviour, one laudable the other lamentable.
Firstly, we have the efforts to make the Twelfth of July into a fun day for all the family and for curious tourists (though Romanians should exercise caution). This orange-tinted glasses version of what until recently was the most violent period in the local calendar has even been given a name, Orangefest, and, indeed, comes complete with superhero, Diamond Dan.
This makeover even extends to rolling out the red (or should that be orange) carpet for Catholics, though anyone who feels slightly queasy at the the sale of baby bibs with the legend “Born to s**t on the Garvaghy Road” at the field may prefer to avoid the gathering points.
Still, reservations to the one side and with noses firmly held, most nationalists are willing to give the Orangefest shenanigans a fair wind. 40 years on from the Bombay Street pogroms, the general feeling is better Orangefest than Orange violence.
With one eye to the orange of the Tricolour then, nationalists are keen to allow Orangemen their day in the sun.
Triumphalism
The other side of the squeezed Orange Order however, is the demand to be allowed to walk where the brethren are clearly not wanted. Some progress has been made in halting the most egregious displays of Orange triumphalism but, stymied on the Garvaghy Road and the Ormeau Road, loyalists have switched the action to sleepy villages where Catholic and Protestant dare to live together. Stoneyford, where a mixture of police inaction and unionist political cowardice have facilitated Eleventh Night hate orgies, is probably the worst example in the greater Belfast area. But there are other towns and villages across the North — including Coleraine, Ballynahinch and Larne — where a Protestant majority is keen to ‘stick it up to’ the Catholic minority.
A key part of these coat-trailing exercises is the display of British flags and paramilitary emblems on lamposts and telegraph poles across mixed areas such as Finaghy.
Shortsighted unionists who see their colours flying high over the Twelfth may think that their writ runs again. The truth, however, is that despite the incursions into Catholic areas of West and North Belfast during the marching season — facilitated by the Parades Commission and policed by Sinn Féin and the PSNI to stave off trouble — the Orange State is dead and gone.
That’s not to say that there isn’t the odd kick in King Billy’s old horse yet — as evidenced by the continuing bias at the highest levels of government. But ultimately, those who chose to live in the past, can’t expect to enjoy the spoils of the future. Which may just be why the Orange Order membership has fallen to its lowest level in over two centuries.
